Concordia Base Log
By: Adrianos Golemis, ESA research MD
Time: L+404 (December 2014)
Temperature: +1 ˚C (DDU Station)
Week: 58
Sunlight: Most of
the day (DDU Station)
Morale: Bad
Log Entry #20 –
Homebound
Ϡ "Leaving on a jet plane" by Chantal Kreviazuk:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6A8ZmYM1r0
Leaving Concordia was harder than expected.
It was 05:00 in the morning when I came down those long stairs one last
time (the same stairs I used to rush up and down casually every day during the
winter). Outside the ice was dyed in lovely hues of orange, touched by the
early sunlight; a peaceful and soothing illumination much in contrast with our
feeling of leaving. Three pieces of luggage to carry, the rest of my stuff
would be shipped back in the following months. But the heaviest thing was the
emotional burden inside.
I’m not going to lie – I had tears in my eyes as I stepped on the plane.
It was mainly the people that I would miss dearly, not only the place that
generated this internal turmoil. A lot of good friends from last winter and
this summer campaign woke up early to see us off. I hugged most of them at
least twice as we exchanged invitations for a future meeting. There is
something shared among people in Antarctica that is not easy to explain. Some
of them you know just for a few weeks, but they do constitute a part of the
wondrous puzzle of your life in the cold. I recalled moments of walking on the
ice every Sunday, playing basketball at -30 degrees, working in the ESA Lab,
dancing at the last party. Playing tavli (backgammon), making photos and
cleaning the dishes! Each of those moments a little treasure. As we stepped on the tiny airplane and the door was shut behind us, the pilots prepped the engines. It was deeply moving
to see all those friends waving us off and making funny gestures.
Picture #87 Friends
waving us off as we board the plane to the Antarctic coast
[Credits: Cecile
Lenormant].
Take off. The twin towers of Concordia were getting smaller and smaller
as the morning sun rays danced amidst the clouds. One year of my life, with all
its experiences, winter and summer acquaintances, humorous moments and more
serious ones, all the great things I witnessed and all the marvels I beheld
were suddenly fading away. I was leaving Concordia – my Concordia.
In the end it was not so different than the day when you finish school
or graduate from university. There is however something more finite to leaving Dome C – and
it is this which wakes you up from the routine you are accustomed to in order
to throw you upon your next step in life.
Picture #88 - #89: Arrival at DDU and first heli-ride.
Flying in a Twin Otter was not a very comfortable experience even though
we were only 4 passengers instead of 12. In part because of my emotions and in
part because of the rough seats(!) I didn’t manage to get much sleep even
though I was exhausted. I also recall that I did not eat my trip lunch despite
knowing that it would be as delicious as all the meals we enjoyed in the
winter.
…
Four hours later we landed on the airstrip near the French-Italian base
of Cap Prud’Homme – and from there we were immediately transferred to the
coastal Station of Dumont D’Urville (DDU) nearby. I finally enjoyed my first
ride on a helicopter – seeing a real landscape different than the white
vastness of Dome Circe was bewildering at first. There were rocks and icebergs
around me, not to mention the frozen sea and islands.
Ϡ Vangelis Papathanasiou, "Theme from Antarctica":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOwuniIgYXM
Yet i felt the greatest surprise when I first noticed a
snow petrel flying by. I was genuinely and profoundly astonished for a moment
as the white bird glided in the air next to me. Next thing I remember were the
penguins that literally live around DDU Station. I hadn’t seen a living animal
for more than year and our meeting with the Antarctic fauna was a welcoming
sight. Over the next days we would visit the nesting places of both the Adelie
and Emperor penguins and we would be lucky enough to observe the hatching of
their eggs and the emergence of the newborn.
Rejection is a very predictable human reaction when you leave something
that you love behind. We ‘ve all experienced it as children, but it returns to
us at moments of loss or nostalgia. Thus it was no great surprise to me that in
the first moments after landing I caught myself playing down the beauty of
Dumont D’Urville’s surroundings or comparing the functions of the base to my
life at Concordia.
Everything seemed to be so different here, another world. The snow was actually melting as you held it in your
hand and that’s something that does never occur in the lower temperatures of
Dome C, where Concordia is situated. The horizon was not flat as the one I had
been used to. And I cannot sufficiently describe my amazement when during a
casual discussion at DDU someone mentioned to me “Oh, yes, this occurs mainly
in the night”. The night? It had been
two and a half months since I saw a sunset and I was definitely not prepared
for such an abrupt change!
Picture #90: The landscape at Terre Adelie – Icebergs and Emperor penguins.
There were other subtle differences between everyday life at the coast
and in the heart of the Antarctic continent. Clothes, for one: I regretted
every time I used my polar suit at DDU, it was apparently too warm for the high
temperatures of Midsummer there. This was actually the first time in a year that
I saw an external thermometer register a positive-value temperature (in
Celsius)! Also, as we no longer were at an altitude of 3200 m, moving around
was much easier physically and I recall running about 10 km outside without breaking
a sweat. Since there is no atmospheric pressure difference at DDU, yoghurts don’t pop when
opened and beers don’t explode in foam as at Concordia! Your mouth is not dry all
the time and you can finally sleep
profoundly and non-stop. Yet I still unconsciously maintain some of the habits
I developed at Concordia – for example I do knock before touching any metallic surface to instinctively avoid static electricity!
All these may seem minor, but I find that they did influence my first
days at DDU quite a bit. It was the final severance of the connection with the
winterover experience and all these tiny habits that I never noticed as my own practices
until I lost them. I was now in transit, heading back to "normality".
But going away is not negative or
always gloomy. While glancing back is bittersweet, looking onward to the path
that lays ahead can be inspiring. And this past can give you all the strength and
determination to march on and achieve everything you need.
In summary, I do miss plenty of
last year but simultaneously I am content to enjoy Antarctica’s wildlife and
landscapes in a different place before returning home. In the twelve days we
spent at DDU we celebrated (our second) Christmas in Antarctica and walked on
the ice pack to visit Cap Prud’Homme again, skimming among icebergs upon the
frozen sea and spotting a seal that came out to play. I finally had the chance
to send postcards from Antarctica to friends and family. And I did benefit from
the opportunity to briefly swim in the sea as well! This was not a bad ending
after all. As someone once wrote, the road goes ever on and on… So here i leave you with some pictures of the road so far.
҉
Picture #91 My
second Christmas in Antarctica... I guess it’s becoming a habit now!
Picture #92: Preparing limoncello for Christmas - Picture#93: Among the penguins
Picture #94: Marching to Cap Prud’Homme upon the frozen sea.
Picture #95 through 100: Moments at DDU.